Death Wish: Rebirth
by Robin Birdie
Summary: Peter had always known about Ellie's existence. It was no secret. He had never expected her to be brought to their home, to be asked to raise her. The truth was that he wasn't sure he could do it . . .


**Death Wish: Rebirth**

'_Yo, Petey! Are you home?'_

Peter jerked wake.

He hadn't realised that he had fallen asleep, but it seemed – at some point during the gruelling research online – that he had done just that. It was a bit disorientating to wake up in front of the computer screen at his desk. There was a pain in his neck from how he must have slept with chin touching his chest, just as his glasses had fallen skewed on his nose and left him half-blind, and he felt a little dizzy and confused. Who was calling him? What time was it?

Peter yawned and adjusted his glasses. The world around him was pitch-black, so that the only visible item was the computer screen in their study, and when he looked at the little clock – at the bottom-right of the screen – he noticed that it was quite early in the morning. It was actually _very _early in the morning. He had been sleeping for longer than he had imagined, because apparently it had gone from just after eleven to now quarter-past four. He groaned and turned off his screen. It would irritate Bruce to know that his share of the research would be late again, but with work split between the _Bugle_ and Stark Industries . . .

'_Petey? Getting worried here!'_

"Huh? I – er – y-yeah! I'm – I'm in here!"

'_Awesome, we're coming in!'_

There was a sudden noise from somewhere down the hallway, followed by a loud word that started off as a curse and drifted into nonsense, and then the study door was flung open wide. Peter hissed as his eyes ached painfully. The room had been completely dark, but now he had to quickly adjust from both the light in the hallway and the overhead lights to the room being quickly turned on. Wade had been gone for a few weeks now on an 'urgent' mission, but that didn't mean that he should have forgotten that early mornings were meant for sleep, let alone that a sudden light in a dark room was _really _painful. Peter spun around in his chair with a groan.

It was hard to be _too _angry with Wade. The older man had effectively given up his mercenary ways, as he now worked exclusively with groups like S.H.I.E.L.D. and the X-Men as something of a freelance consultant, particularly in areas of explosives and weaponry, and the amount of times he wore his Deadpool costume added up to perhaps once a year at most. He was simply Wade Wilson now, and Wade Wilson would always be _incredibly _excited about the rare few missions Deadpool received.

Peter smiled to see his fiancé, dressed in his rather worn and ripped uniform, and he found himself caught between kissing him in greeting and yelling at him for being so noisy, but – too tired to yet stand – he settled for a lazy grin and a nod of acknowledgement. He rubbed at his eyes and finally managed to find enough sense to remember what Wade had shouted, as well as what his words had actually meant, and suddenly he looked about to try and find the second part to this 'we' mentioned. There was nobody else in the room, but he couldn't see out into the hall or the rest of the house, and he felt far too tired to deal with this level of confusion.

"You said 'we'," muttered Peter.

"I did? Aw, I was going to surprise you, too! Hey, how'd you keep the house looking so tidy since I left? It always seems to totally explode in take-out boxes whenever you go for even a day, so a whole month is really an achievement! Unless . . . you're the one that cleans the house! I always wondered about that, you know? Ooh, now _that _is a good image . . . my Petey in a maid's uniform! We have one of those, don't we?"

"Wade, I –! It's too early for this! I've been working all week on a project with Bruce, not to mention that I'm swamped for work at the _Bugle_, and between that and the surrogate . . . I've barely had time to sleep. Please, just -! Who is with you?"

"Okay, but you promise not to freak out?"

"_No_."

Wade jumped a little on the ball of his feet. It was clear that he either didn't hear what Peter said, or maybe he just didn't care, but the smile behind the mask was clear as day and his laugh was so loud that it hurt Peter's ears. Peter rested his arms on his legs and leaned forward with a slight groan, before Wade stepped to one side and appeared to look down at something next to him. Peter wondered whether it was Logan. There weren't many people so small that Wade had to look down, at least not by _that _amount of distance. It was then his fiancé signalled them to step next to him.

"Oh no," muttered Peter. "Who – who is that?"

Peter stood to his feet. He felt his hands shake a little, so that he had to use all of his strength to keep them by his side and stay calm, even as he felt his heart race and his breath hitch a little in his chest. There was a _child_ next to Wade. They had to be at least seven, but no older than ten at the most. Peter couldn't help but begin to panic, because all he could think about was where the girl's parents were, whether Wade had taken her to protect her and whether they were dealing with a technical kidnapping.

It was hard not to look at her, because – well – there she was! He didn't recognise her in the very least, which worried him as this _definitely _wasn't a case of babysitting, not that anyone would want Wade to baby-sit so early in the morning. She had a dark brown skin tone, as well hair black as night and tied back in a ponytail, and there was a little bit of weight to her that made her look infinitely young. It wasn't that she was plump or overweight, but a little chubby in a way that only children could make look healthy and good, but her eyes -! They were a beautiful shade of brown that looked _so _familiar, as if Peter had seen them a thousand times over. Who was she?

"Meet Eleanor," said Wade. "Call her Ellie!"

"E-Ellie? You mean . . . this is your _daughter _Ellie?"

"Yeah! It's a good job we bought the house, right? We didn't have room to swing a cat in our old apartment, but then who goes around throwing cats anyway? I call animal abuse! Okay, so this is Ellie! Thought she could stay here for a while!"

"You – you thought that -? Wade, we – we can't –"

"Say hello, Ellie! He's Peter!"

"Er, hello?" Ellie said.

Peter drew in a rather deep breath. It was hard to stop it from shaking, as well as the fact he was sure he was moments away from fainting or exploding, but the presence of a child prevented him from doing either. He wondered what had happened to Eleanor's mother, just as he wondered how long Wade expected to look after her, let alone why he picked _now _of all times to watch her. There was also a hint of fear to the girl's face, as well as a few specks of blood and a lot of dirt to her white shirt.

He ran a hand over his face and walked across the room to the girl in the doorway, where he then knelt down and forced a bright smile on his face. It was then that he saw her pull back, with a strange look of irritation and fear upon her face, and he realised that she seemed caught between running away and fighting him. There was no doubt that she was Wade's daughter. He gave a sad smile as he saw his fiancé's eyes on the girl's face, as well as the strength to her expression that made it clear how she was willing to fight despite her fear. Peter made sure not to touch her. It would only spook her and put her further on edge. He kept his distance.

"Hi there, Ellie. My name is Peter."

"I was taught all about stranger danger," she said calmly.

"Well, you're right, I am a stranger," he replied. "I – I'm not too sure what to say, but you're going to have to spend the night here . . . just tonight, okay? It's very early, which means it's well past your bedtime! We have a spare bedroom that will be just perfect for you, so I'm sure you'll be very comfy, and you can borrow one of my old shirts to sleep in, too. It'll be like a . . . a sleepover. Fun, right?

"Look . . . I know you must be scared. You're in a strange house and with strange people, but I promise you . . . we'll make everything okay. I'll talk to your . . . er . . . Deadpool. Tomorrow . . . tomorrow we'll figure out just where you came from and where you're going, but do you know what? Deadpool makes the _best _pancakes. Do you like pancakes? I promise that tomorrow we'll have lots and lots of pancakes, whilst I get in touch with some special people that can take you back home, as I bet you can't wait to get home. I'm always a lot happier at home, too."

"I don't have a home," Ellie answered calmly. "My dad died."

"W-well . . . okay . . . right."

Peter lifted his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. He had no idea what was going on, especially when her father was _clearly _alive and next to her, but Wade had never once discussed his daughter at any length. The only thing he hoped was that she hadn't seen him actually 'die', because that had traumatised Peter a fair few times during the start of their relationship, and he had been double her age at the time. How old was she now? Eight? Peter had no idea what to say to an eight-year-old.

"She means her step-dad," explained Wade.

"Okay, well, I think we really need to talk, Wade."

He stood up and looked his fiancé in the eye with a dark stare. It was then that Wade scratched at his mask, before he swayed a little on his feet, and clearly his boyfriend – behind his smirk – didn't feel this as serious as Peter felt. The girl between them served as a something of an anchor for Peter, because he was moments away from losing his temper and he knew that he couldn't do such a thing in front of her, especially when she had probably already endured so much. Peter forced his smile again and looked down at her warmly.

"Hey, do you like cartoons?"

"I'm not allowed to watch television this late."

"Well, how about we make an exception?" Peter asked. "Just this once. Let me show you our living room, where we have the biggest television you've ever seen, as well as all the best cartoon channels. We won't be too long, we just need to talk."

"Okay, but can I hold the remote?"

"You sure can."

Peter walked past Wade and opened the door opposite his study, which revealed the large and dark lounge. He fumbled around for the light-switch, before he signalled for Eleanor to follow, and began to search for the remote control and a blanket to keep her warm. The truth was that Wade was something of a couch-potato, so – between jobs – he would spend longer in front of the TV than Peter spent in the research laboratory with Bruce, and so there was everything in the lounge that a person could possibly need to survive. It was like Wade's private sanctuary.

He watched as Eleanor cuddled up against a corner of the sofa, whilst he flicked on a show that appeared to be about a boy with bunny-ears and a talking dog, and it drew a sleepy laugh from the girl that told him he had picked the right show. Peter sighed in relief and gave her the remote, and then draped a blanket over her and handed her a Spider-Man plush toy. He smiled down at her and gestured to Wade to turn the lights off, hoping that she would fall asleep in front of the flickering screen.

"We'll just be outside the door, okay? Shout if you need us," he said.

"Okay, thank you, Mr Peter."

He wandered outside and gently closed the door behind him, whilst Wade pulled off his mask and revealed a beaming face at Peter. The cancer was quite bad today, but not nearly as bad as it could be, and there were a few open sores and pieces of flaking skin, which would explain why he hadn't removed his mask around the girl. It was hard to stay angry at a man that looked so sincerely happy as he did, but there was so much wrong with what Wade had done! Peter simply couldn't calm down.

"Wade? Study. _Now_."

He stormed into the study and waited for his fiancé to enter. Wade kept the door open ajar, assumedly so that he could hear if Eleanor yelled out for him, and he stood centre of the lit room with his childish smile. It forced Peter to draw in several deep breaths and to count to ten in his mind, but the anger was still rolling inside of him and threatened to break out at any moment. He walked up to Wade and stood directly in front of him, looking him straight in the eyes.

"What the heck is going on, Wade?"

"Aw, you look so cute when you're all angry! You seem so much more stressed lately; it's such a bummer! Here's hoping when little Mayday is born that you'll be a lot happier . . . maybe take some time off work . . . you used to be shorter, too!"

"I was a _teenager_ when we met! Of course, I was shorter!"

"Heh, my little Pocket Petey!"

"_Wade_! Answer me!"

Wade's expression turned instantly darker. It was clear that he felt somewhat insulted by Peter's demands, but – in all honesty – Peter couldn't have cared less in that moment exactly what Wade felt about the situation. There was a _child_ watching cartoons in their living room, one that Peter had _no _idea would even be a part of their lives, let alone whether she was there legally or with the knowledge of her guardians, and he feared exactly what she had been through and whether she was even well.

There was a chance she was injured or traumatised, just as there was a chance people could be heading to their home to find her, or even that she had _relatives _out there crying in her absence, wondering where she had gone. Wade had mentioned his daughter only a _handful _of times during their entire time knowing one another, and not once had he ever expressed any detail on the matter. Peter shook his head and threw himself down onto a small sofa in the corner of the room, where in front of him sat an array of paperwork on a low table, and he began to massage his temples in an attempt to fight away his absolute panic. He needed to know what was happening.

"What is she even _doing _here?"

"Ellie was taken a long while back," said Wade. "I got to the camp too late. I found her mother deader than disco, but couldn't see any sign of her at all . . . figured she escaped, you know? If she were dead, least she wouldn't suffer. If she were alive, she'd probably be with the other escapees and living a life that's pretty good, a life where she didn't have an ugly bastard of a father ruining her last chance of happiness. I stayed away. I didn't even _try _to look for her.

"Agent Preston found her a while back, where she had been adopted by some dude and was living pretty alright, but everything I have a connection with turns to shit pretty damned fast. What could I do? Her step-dad died and then these guys took her, so I went after her, which is where I spent the last few weeks . . . mostly . . . look, there wasn't time to explain and stuff happened and she's my daughter! I called in some favours and _technically _she's legally dead, but I got her some new paperwork, so you're officially looking at one Eleanor Parker . . . I think she's like your long-lost cousin or something now. Preston said she'd look after her, but – you know."

"No. No, I don't know!" Peter shouted. "I thought we were serious, Wade? We bought a house together. We live together. We're having a _child_ together. I have your healing-factor, thanks to the work of Bruce and myself, and I plan on being by your side for as long as that factor lets us. We have a surrogate out there that will give birth to our daughter any day now, but you -! When did 'us' become 'you'?"

"What? You _knew _I had a daughter since before we even dated! I don't get it, Petey; you think that a legitimate heir of ours beats my bastard kid? I thought you were better than that! I turned my back on her once before, well I'm not doing it again! She's my daughter and she needs me. I want to be there for her!"

"I'm not _asking _you to abandon her! I'm just -!"

Peter dropped his head down into his lap. He covered his face with his hands and tried to remember to breathe slowly and deeply, but it was difficult when he realised that he had begun to cry and could feel his eyes begin to sting painfully. It was hard to keep his emotions in check, especially when their lives were already changing so much and there was so much stress taking place, and now he was being asked to raise his fiancé's estranged chid that he had never before met, all before he had even properly woken up. He eventually lifted his head and rubbed the tear streaks away.

"You said that Preston was willing to take her?"

He tried to give a smile, but it was weak and he could feel his lips tremble. It seemed that Wade took that moment to take pity on him, as he walked around the table and dropped onto the sofa, although he put his muddy and bloody boots on Peter's paperwork, which – already so overwhelmed – felt like a final straw. He reached over and lifted Wade's feet and dropped them onto the floor, before his frustration got the better of him and he made to move away. Wade pulled him back.

Wade held tight onto Peter's wrist, until he was certain that the younger man wasn't going to walk away from him, and then let go with a frown upon his features. It nearly made Peter feel guilty, especially when he saw his fiancé struggle with the mask that was now tucked into his belt and being fidgeted with desperately, and he knew – without doubt – that Wade was self-conscious and wanted to hide from him. There was a long moment of awkward silence, during which Peter simply gave a few sad sniffs and listened to the strange dialogue of cartoon in the next room. Wade eventually spoke, but when he did it sounded rather accusatory.

"Yeah, what of it?" Wade asked.

"Preston has a son of her own, doesn't she?" Peter gave a sigh. "I just think that maybe she'll be better equipped to _deal _with a child. Eleanor will probably need a lot of therapy, as well as a stable home-environment, and our May will be born any day now. It'll be hard. I work full-time, plus soon we'll have a newborn baby to look after, and Ellie . . . she'll need full-time support, full-time love, and I don't think I'll be able to give her any of that. Preston knows what she's doing. Preston is able to –"

"You trying to piss me off, Petey? You think I'm so much of a low-life that I won't be able to love my own child? I have enough love for _both _my daughters, plus I've got nothing _but _time to raise them! I got enough money to last me _twenty _lifetimes, not as though I need to work, and I'll be there for them both! You think I'm such a bad father, why'd you even agree to have May with me?"

"That _isn't _what I'm saying, Wade. It's a lot different raising a newborn child _with _a partner, than it is to raise a deeply traumatised child that you don't even know, let alone the fact that you just _sprung _this on me. If _you_ raise her, _I'll_ have to raise her, too. We're a team, but I'm just not sure I can deal with that responsibility right now."

"Well, who better to deal with a traumatised child than someone who _knows _trauma?"

"We don't have anything here _for _her! We have a _nursery_, that's it!"

"So we'll buy her a bedroom, _that's it_!"

Peter sensed this was where Wade drew his line. He had always a soft spot for children, especially considering the fact that he thought he would never be a father and had assumed Ellie happy elsewhere, and now he had the one thing that he had always wanted. It was noble, but it had not been thought through at all and it had been a decision made with _complete _disregard to Peter. They were meant to be a couple, which meant they were meant to decide _together_.

He understood Wade's need to put his daughter first, but surely he should have thought about _talking _to Peter about it first? Peter didn't even know where he stood. He felt afraid, especially because – if Wade were this serious about raising Ellie – they could potentially split up over the issue, or maybe Wade would give in to Peter due to his crippling self-esteem issues and phobia of rejection . . . maybe they wouldn't split up, but he would forever resent Peter instead. It was cruel to spring this on Peter and expect him to just _accept _it_. _It was cruel to expect him to agree, but not expect him to have any concerns or objections.

"Wade, you know she _has _a father, right?"

"Yeah, _me_," he said. "I'm not trying to replace her other dad. He was a good guy and treated my baby well, but I'm in the picture now and I'm not going anywhere. I made a mistake leaving her before, which I'll regret to the day I die, but she needs me now and I'm never going to abandon her ever again. If we were in any other universe, maybe if I were married to someone else, maybe I'd have let Preston have her and just swung by from time to time, but I'm with _you_.

"You know, I _could _have had her memories wiped, but I said no. I wanted to support her and be there for her, because I know that with some love that she could be healthy and happy again. Preston's offered to have her weekends, so it's more like we've got joint custody than full custody, and Preston knows what she's doing. I don't see the harm, Petey! We got the money to raise her, plus we're a serious couple now, and she'll even have a _real _sister to keep her company, a real _family_! I mean, that's _both _our DNA in May, plus we're getting married soon . . . we can do this."

"I'm just the guy marrying her biological father," muttered Peter. "She only just _met_ me. That's not to mention that she's never really met _you _before, either. What if she resents us for trying to replace her father? You need to think this through. I was planning on dropping work at the lab anyway, maybe work just on my photography or get a job teaching instead, but even then . . . I can't be here _all _the time."

"Come on, it's not as though you're Spidey anymore! You have time!"

"Yeah, I hung up my costume for a reason."

He remembered well the day that he gave up his superhero work. There had been an incident that had resulted in him severely damaging his leg, enough that it still gave him trouble to this day, being that it happened before he had absorbed Wade's healing factor and enhanced his own factor. It was hard to remember what happened; he had also hurt his head at the same time . . . he had nearly died . . . he simply remembered waking up to his mother weeping and Wade covered in blood.

That had been when he ended his work as Spider-Man. He never asked why Wade was in such awful condition, but his ripped Deadpool costume and the sudden death of the villain had given it away. The older man had disappeared for _weeks_, seemingly taking up mercenary work again, before he came back and spent months by Peter's side, to the extent he would apparently _watch_ him at work and with his friends and even at his aunt's . . . desperate to protect him . . . his own personal security detail. The thought of losing Peter had traumatised Wade, to the point that it had taken _years_ for him to return to a semblance of 'normal'. _Never again_, Peter swore.

"So you want me to give her away?" Wade asked.

Peter jumped at the sudden question. He had been lost in thought and to be broken from such a train had been a shock, but he was aware enough to hear the fear and dismay in Wade's voice. It was a broken sound. It was as if he had already resigned himself to giving Ellie to Preston, which was both a relief and a regret. It was good to know that Wade was willing to put him first, especially as it meant that the possibility of a break-up was no longer a possibility, if it ever had been one, but he knew that he couldn't ask Wade to do something for which he wasn't emotionally ready.

"No," said Peter. "I'm saying that I'm _furious _with you that you could leave for a month, before coming back _days _before our daughter is due to be born, then tell me that we have an _eight-year-old _girl to raise together. We need to talk about this properly, to make sure that we're both _ready and able _to commit to this, because we can't just change our minds. If we choose to raise her, that's it. We need to decide _together _though, but we can't just decide instantly in one morning!"

"So we all go to bed and then eat breakfast! We can talk about it for as long as you think we need to talk about it, but – in the meantime – Preston can help us out and give us a hand! She knows the _best _therapist for Ellie, too, which is great! Just don't shoot the idea down before you've thought about it! Ellie needs us."

"No, she needs _you_. I'm here for her, as she's a part of you, and I'll never turn my back on any part of you, Wade. I love you. That's why I don't want to hurt either of you by agreeing something to which I can't guarantee I can commit."

"So we'll talk about this and then decide?"

"We'll talk and then decide."

He smiled as Wade pulled him into a hug. It was actually a huge comfort, especially when they had spent so long apart, but he was still angry with Wade and couldn't help but to stubbornly cling to his frustration. He spent a moment simply frozen, refusing to embrace him back, but then he caught the scent of Mexican food and felt the large and hard muscles beneath him . . . this was _Wade_. Peter buried his head into his fiancé's neck and breathed in deeply with a smile.

"You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, I know, Petey, but I need Ellie in my life, too!"

"I know you do, but this is a huge responsibility. Let's just deal with it a day at a time, okay? I'll go see if she's awake, then we can put her to bed together, and tomorrow we can maybe spend the day with her . . . get to know each other as a family . . . even if we don't raise her, we'll still be a regular part of her life. I'll make sure that you see her regularly, even if I have to withhold kisses to do it."

"Aw, see! You're already thinking about a future with her in it! You'll agree in no time," said Wade. "_This will be so awesome!_ We cannot decide something in he heat of the moment. We can do anything! We have Petey on our side!"

"Okay, right, well, let's get going then."

"Right!"

He stood up slowly and gave a sigh. There were still a huge amount of doubt in his mind, but he made a mental note to contact Preston first thing in the morning to discuss Ellie in detail. It was true that they were a family, as such they needed to make decisions as a family, and together – the two of them – would discuss this and work out what to do next. Peter looked to the door and wondered whether they could do this, but when he looked to Wade he realised that maybe – _maybe_ – they could.

Peter reached out his hand to Wade and let his fiancé hold onto him, before he pulled him up onto his feet and placed a soft kiss to his lips. They stood for a moment in silence, before they quietly made their way into the hallway, and – as Wade flicked the lights off behind them – Peter gently opened the door into the lounge. The only sound was that of some strange song about a baby, which made Peter question just what was being shown on television nowadays, and he slowly crept inside the room and turned the television off as quietly as he could. Ellie was fast asleep underneath the blanket. He smiled and scooped her up into his arms, blanket included.

He walked slowly back into the hallway and looked to Wade, who closed the door behind him and smiled at them both, and then reached down to stroke a stray lock of hair from his daughter's face. Peter wondered whether they could raise her, especially when she would likely experience great pain at the loss of everything she had known, and both men knew well the pain of trauma and fear, and soon they would have a daughter of their own to join their new family. It would take time for them to work out whether they could do this . . . they would have to think about it . . .

"She really is beautiful," whispered Peter.

"Doesn't get it from me."

"Yeah, she does."

Peter laughed and pushed his head forward enough to kiss Wade. He pulled away and looked down at the girl in his arms, before he shook his head and wondered whether he could commit to raising her with Wade. It was useless thinking about what could have been or what should have been, as they had to deal with what was right in front of them, and all he knew was that he loved Wade. He hoped that was enough to get them through this and to help them make the right choice.

"I love you, Wade," he said.

"I love you, too."


End file.
